To Have Flesh, Blood and Dance
by Queenie's Broken Heart
Summary: Regulus Black has made his decision. And he thinks that somewhere along the road to his imminent death he might have discovered all about living. But perhaps it's a little too late?


_"But oh my bones are aching for a chance_

_To flesh and blood dance"_

-Duke Special

Regulus Black took one last moment for himself.

It wasn't a moment of hesitation or uncertainty. His mind had been made up a long time ago. It was a moment of longing and regret, a moment of reflection on everything that he had done in his life. And he remembered that one, happy instant.

He spent a long, lonely moment in the cave which he couldn't help feeling was a tomb. Remembering Kreacher's horror story, he realised that was exactly what it was. And what was more, it was soon to be his own tomb.

He stood by the edge of the lake, and peered into its depths. The eerie glow in the cave provided an oddly sharp reflection it the blackness of the water, rendering it mirror-like. Bending slowly down to look at it, he was surprised at the calmness of his expression, but the gravity he felt inwardly revealed itself through his dark eyes, making him look far older than his eighteen years. The dark circles under his eyes only served to emphasise their sadness and his black hair was unkempt, the matted locks demonstrating that this was a person who had stopped caring about the little things.

He was playing a far bigger game now.

Although Regulus was unmistakably a Black – his high cheekbones dominated his face, his chin stuck out slightly, his nose was perfect and straight – he never quite achieved the handsomeness of the likes of Sirius and Bellatrix. Nor was he ever quite as vocal as they were, either. Never as independent, though he had longed to be.

Regulus was the lesser Black. Perhaps not in his parents' eyes, but certainly in his own.

It was time to change this, even if no one could ever find out.

It was ironic, he supposed. All his life he had done nothing but crave praise and now his greatest accomplishment must go unrecognised.

Well, almost unrecognised. He withdrew the locket from his cloak and prised it open to check that his note was still there. He checked his reflection once more and almost laughed. He didn't look that different from his "traitorous" Uncle Alphard. He checked his watch, even though it was completely redundant to do so. He always checked things too many times when he was nervous.

He heard Kreacher shift uncomfortably behind him and felt immediate pity.

'Kreacher, you have nothing to worry about here, d'you understand? I won't do the same things to you that he did. I'm not going to make you drink the potion.'

The elf's face was pallid with fear.

'Kreacher thanks Master Regulus, but Kreacher lives to serve the House of Black and will do whatever it is Master Regulus requires of him.'

Regulus smiled. It was a weak smile, but genuine, and it betrayed his youthfulness for a split second. He spoke in gentle tones.

'I know. I do have some important instructions for you … I'll tell you them in just a minute … I'll be ready in another minute.' _He wasn't putting it off, not really. _'Maybe five. I need to think things through once more.' _He didn't; he had planned it perfectly. But he wanted to think._

The elf gave a determined nod, before bowing deeply.

Regulus sighed. Sirius had never liked Kreacher, but the elf was the closest thing Regulus had for a friend at the moment. This was by choice rather than design. Sirius never seemed to have the same trust issues that Regulus had – Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew would place their very lives in his brother's hands and Sirius would definitely trust them with his.

He supposed it was because Sirius was as constant as he was fickle. Regulus couldn't bring himself to trust another person when he didn't even trust himself.

He looked back at his reflection after considering this. He and Sirius looked exceedingly similar, but there were obvious differences. The stubborn turn of Sirius' mouth was his and his alone and Regulus' careful, guarded eyes were in stark contrast to the open grey ones of his brother. But Regulus was uncertain if Sirius' faith in friends was justified. Sirius' judgement wasn't always right – after all, he completely wrote Regulus off as a lost cause, didn't he?

Not that he blamed him. It was Sirius alone who tried to stop him from joining the Death Eaters.

It was his greatest regret that Sirius could never know that they ended up on the same side of this war. There had been conflict between the brothers ever since the day Sirius had been put into Gryffindor.

Slytherin had suited Regulus well. He was fairly popular there, especially once he became Seeker. He liked the prestige and it certainly impressed his father, but more than that he liked the position itself. On the pitch, he had a mission. He had a goal. And, if he played the game well enough, he generally got what he looked for.

This was why he joined the Death Eaters. Ever since his cousin Bellatrix had joined them, his family would speak of her often as a hero, so he started reading every newspaper article he could lay his hands on about the Dark Lord. Sirius, who was much smarter than him, had always overshadowed him and once his brother ran away for good, he longed to be the hero of their family. He longed to be a Death Eater, just like Bellatrix.

He sought her out one day when she visited his house briefly. They had never spoken, she being ten years older and infinitely more brilliant than he.

Bellatrix had openly laughed at him.

'You! You're just a child! Fifteen years old. What could you possibly offer?'

His answer was earnest. 'Anything. Everything I've possibly got. I'll do anything.'

Her patronising smile didn't waver once. 'I don't think so. Look at your brother – you used to follow him around and I'm not convinced you've stopped. Last thing we need is a spy.'

'I have no brother.'

She focused her eyes on him a little more carefully. 'You reject your brother?'

'As definitely as you reject him as your cousin.'

She grinned, showing all of her teeth.

'This is serious business, you know. You'll have to prove yourself. '

He should have been wary at the glint in her eye, but instead his heart soared.

'Name it, Bellatrix. I'll do it.'

And he did.

Alphard had always been his favourite uncle, although the old man himself favoured Sirius. Regulus' mother was always dismissive of him – Alphy wasn't married but he had many friends, and they weren't the right kind of people to be seen with.

Regulus had met some of them once – Ms Celestina Warbeck, a tall, middle aged witch with long dark hair (a half-blood who made the most insipid music, according to his mother), cheerful Ms Miranda Goshawk who was apparently a celebrated magical theorist (with three children in Hufflepuff and one in Gryffindor) and Mr Alasdair Maddock who made Regulus laugh, and used to play for the Montrose Magpies (until he became very fond of Muggle sports).

'He's a disgrace to our family,' Bellatrix had explained. 'A potential risk, too. Your test is to kill him without anyone knowing it was you that did it.'

She had focused on his face, looking for any signs of horror.

'Consider it done,' he had said.

Alphard may have been his favourite uncle, but that wasn't to say Regulus was close to him. Like everyone else, Alphy had preferred Sirius. The man was old enough, silly and, as Bellatrix had said, a potential threat.

They thought he'd died in his sleep and the most trauma the death of Alphy caused was his money being left to seventeen-year-old Sirius, who promptly went and bought himself a place of his very own. Seething, his mother blasted her brother off the old family tree, howling that she should have done the deed years before.

And, at sixteen, he became a Death Eater.

Six months later, he wanted out.

He was almost convinced that Carol Bones had dropped her Lunascope on purpose, so he'd pick it up and return it to her. She had smiled broadly when he did, and engaged him in conversation for twenty minutes afterwards. She loved to talk and talk, if someone would listen. And surprisingly, Regulus discovered that he liked to listen.

Carol wasn't classically pretty but she had strange, green eyes and her eyebrows danced as she spoke. Her sister had left school the year before and she was as lonely as Regulus, who was the only Death Eater still at school that year. She was a Hufflepuff, but he suddenly discovered he didn't care. And, as no one else in the school was a Death Eater, he thought it wouldn't do him much damage to spend a little time with her.

But it was her that killed him, really.

As soon as he heard of the plot to kill the Bones family, Regulus' new mission became clear. He needed to stop the Dark Lord. Bellatrix had told him all those months ago she'd been wary of him becoming a spy. He had to give her credit for her perceptiveness.

It wasn't too difficult to work out, if he was honest. The Dark Lord bragged of immortality often and after Regulus discreetly questioned other Death Eaters and read several books, he had a pretty good idea of what he was up against – Kreacher held the final pieces of the puzzle. His fate was set.

His last week of school, the Bloody Baron approached him.

'You seem troubled, young Slytherin.'

Taken aback, Regulus had replied without thinking, 'I thought you hated children.'

He had been told upon arrival not to bother the Bloody Baron.

The ghost actually gave a hoarse chuckle. 'I do. But you're not a child, are you?'

'I suppose not.' He had recently turned eighteen.

'You're regretful and, having experience in that matter, I've come to offer some advice. I once wanted something so badly that I lost myself trying to get it,' the baron nodded wisely. 'Becoming a Death Eater won't get you a happy ending.'

Regulus rolled up his left sleeve and showed the old ghost.

'It's too late.'

The baron fixed his eyes on the Dark Mark before Regulus shoved his sleeve down again.

'I never liked Tom Riddle. He never seemed quite alive. I've envied you students with your flesh and blood and _life_ for centuries. He never once seized the moment and danced with a pretty girl,' he sighed a wheezy sigh. 'That, young Slytherin, is living. And Carol Bones is aching for the chance to flesh and blood dance with _you_, of all people.'

'Why me?'

'Why her? Everyone overlooked that girl until the day you returned her Lunascope. She's your Cinderella. And you've missed out on the dance. As I missed out on mine.'

Regulus didn't know what Cinderella was, but he realised what the ghost was telling him – he hadn't yet lived.

'Maybe it's not too late,' he said. 'I won't get my happy ending, but maybe she can.'

'It's not yet midnight, young Slytherin. An instant can be worth far more than a lifetime, you know,' and with that, the Baron vanished.

Regulus paused. Next week was the date he had set. His death date. At the moment he was the perfect son in the perfect family and a seemingly loyal Death Eater. He was going to throw it all away in any case – why shouldn't he see her one last time?

So he did.

Carol Bones giggled the entire time, her eyebrows dancing as she chattered away to him breathlessly. Regulus twirled her silently but happily. It was one moment, but for that moment he was her prince. Perhaps she would later hear rumours that he was a Death Eater, but for now she knew nothing. He was desirable and real.

He danced, knowing he would be limp skin and bones all too soon, and revelled in the fact that he wasn't yet.

And for one instant, he kissed her, his lips hard against hers.

And that instant _was_ worth his entire lifetime.

After school was over, there was only one thing left to do. He was scheduled for a mission with Rodolphus Lestrange the night he was planning to die. For this he was thankful; Bellatrix's husband was the only one he could convince to go along with his plan. He arranged to meet up with him early in the evening.

The knock on the door was brief, and Regulus answered it quickly, almost shoving Rodolphus inside. The older man glanced around the gloomy house surreptitiously.

'We're alone,' Regulus said, but Rodolphus didn't stop his cautious glances.

'So you say.'

Regulus looked at him, the last living human he would ever see.

'You came,' he said gratefully.

'You asked me,' the other man reminded him rather grumpily. 'Very persistently.'

'You shouldn't have come,' Regulus said eventually, gesturing the man to move on into the sitting room. 'It was rather stupid, actually.'

'I know,' Rodolphus answered after a pause.

'Perhaps I can't trust you.'

'But you do. Everyone does.'

'Well clearly everyone can't be right,' Regulus stared at the older man for a few more seconds. 'Tea?'

Rodolphus laughed bitterly. 'It would take something a lot stronger than tea to make me feel at ease here, Black. I don't know what it is you're planning but I know it's betrayal – and I know it's bad.'

'It is.'

'She might kill me.' There was no question about whom he was speaking. Regulus could hear the love in his voice even as he contemplated the danger she was.

'Maybe. But you're an Occlumens. Why should she find out you've betrayed the Dark Lord?'

Again came the dry laughter. 'Kid, even _you_ can read me like a book. And she's the most brilliant mind I've ever met. Occlumency doesn't come close to covering it. But you're right. The Dark Lord knows I'm so in love with her I wouldn't betray either him or her, and she knows it too.'

'They're wrong though,' Regulus said. 'Aren't they?'

Rodolphus paused again. 'Y'know, she was the one to teach me Occlumency.'

'Yeah,' Regulus sighed. 'Me too.'

Rodolphus looked into his eyes. 'I feel dead. She doesn't want me and she never will as long as the Dark Lord is around. But I can't leave her. I just can't. You're a braver, more foolish boy than I ever was, Black, but so help me, I think I will betray him.'

He had been counting on this.

'I know. Because once he's gone for good, you think she might actually start paying you some attention.'

'Like I said, I'm as easy to read as book. So what is it you want me to do?'

Regulus smiled. 'I want you to go on our mission as planned - alone. But tell them I went with you,' he nodded, collecting his thoughts. 'Tell them I backed out at the last moment. Realised I was in too deep. And then I want you to tell them that you killed me, the traitor.'

Rodolphus sighed in relief, clearly he had been expecting worse. 'I'll do it. You have my word. I've been waiting to do something … defiant. It might make me feel alive for a change.'

Regulus nodded again enviously.

Rodolphus stood and went to the door, pausing just outside it.

'Good luck Kid. I've no idea why you're doing it, but I'm just glad someone is.'

Regulus hesitated, wondering if he should tell him about the Horcrux-theory, but deciding against it. If Rodolphus did anything bigger than what he'd already asked of him, Bellatrix would find out for sure.

Rodolphus Lestrange left, alone in his mission. Perhaps, owing to Regulus' "backing out last moment", there wouldn't even be a death tonight. Well, not at Rodolphus' hands anyway.

And so he found himself, in the cave, facing the death that would definitely happen – his own.

He was done following people around – he'd followed Sirius, his parents, Bellatrix – he was finally done. Ready and willing.

'OK, Kreacher,' he said, and turned to the elf who was listening expectantly. He told him the plan quietly, and was touched to see the shock and horror forming on the elf's face.

'Do you understand?'

A reluctant nod.

'And it's most important nobody – not anyone in my family, even – _nobody_ finds out about this. It'll only put them in danger.'

'You have Kreacher's word, Master Regulus,' the elf said sombrely.

'Thanks Kreacher,' Regulus said, handing over the locket.

He took out a jar and lit a flame in it, handing it to Kreacher.

'The inferi won't bother you as long as you're holding this, but get away as quickly as you can Kreacher.'

He had read up on inferi beforehand, and had stumbled across a story about a man who kept a pet Chimaera to keep them at bay. Now the flame he'd offered Kreacher would act as the elf's own little Chimaera. Regulus liked the symbolism. A Chimaera was part lion, part snake and part goat.

'If only there was a house at Hogwarts with a goat,' he murmured, 'I think I might have liked it there.'

And with that, he took a swig of the dreaded potion.

What he saw were ghosts of his past – Alphard, Sirius, Carol. The war had taken something from them all. _He_ had taken something from them all.

And because these were the people already on his mind before he took the potion, he managed to keep drinking it until the end.

He managed to keep drinking the potion because he had died a long time ago and there was not much left to take away.

And as he plunged for the water, he was half reaching for a drink, half reaching for the bloodless, fleshless hand that would drag him to his grave.

His greatest accomplishment wasn't having a part in killing the greatest dark wizard in history, rather it was finding out who he truly was, and what exactly he was made of.

His greatest achievement was that moment when he danced.

And he hoped she could continue the dance alone.

Or at least not with him.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling owns 'Harry Potter'

Duke Special owns 'Flesh and Blood Dance'

I own nothing. But hey, it's not like I'm materialistic or anything. :|

**A/n: **Written for Katamabob's Random Song Challenge! Which was very fun to do indeed and very inspiring. My song was 'Flesh and Blood Dance' by Duke Special and it's awesome :D

This turned out longer than I expected XD

Please review if you can :D

Thanks for reading!


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